On the Edge of the Universe
by nat13cat
Summary: On a mission gone horribly wrong, Anakin is captured by slavers, then sold somewhere 'on the edge of the universe'. Will anyone discover his whereabouts? Will he be rescued? ... Will he even want to be?
1. Chapter 1

_Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent then the one derived from fear of punishment. _

_**-Mohandas Gandhi**_

The mission had gone wrong quickly.

Horribly wrong, very, very quickly.

"Move it," gurgled the creature behind him with a sharp prod to his back. He turned and raised his lip in a snarl. The thing just _laughed_ at him. It was… demeaning. He would strangle it if he had the capacity to do that now. Instead, he just turned his face forward again and set it on to the stone mask he had employed the last few days in captivity.

Yes. Captivity. He had been captured not a few days ago. Not even by the separatists. By slavers. He had been sent on and undercover reconnaissance mission to examine suspicious activity in the one-hundred and twelfth sector, suspected arms dealing to rebels on republic controlled planets and slave trading. A tractor beam had caught him before he'd even landed. It was a slave ship masquerading as a republic cruiser, somehow they had managed to salvage a wreak for parts and configured a shell that fooled the scanners and his Jedi senses. He had managed to destroy about half of them he bet, but soon they got him.

_Shot_ him to be more precise.

Eight times.

That's why instead of striding confidently to wherever they were taking him he limped and groveled, gritting his teeth with the pain of it. Two of the shots had decimated his right leg. One had hit his lower back dead center, but he had only suffered a burn, the leather protecting him from more damage. Four had just skimmed the surface of his skin. The final shot had hit his collarbone, right above his heart. He was lucky to be alive, lucky even for a Jedi. His captors had been 'kind' enough wrap his wounds in thick bandages, but refused to let him where a _shirt._ Or boots. Or anything really, except his trousers.

"Faster human," snarled the guard, followed by more wet laughter the burbled from the other three guards charged with escorting him. He shifted his brow into a glare and directed his gaze in the general direction of the laughter, snarling again, raging at the cuffs around his forearms. They had blindfolded him on the ship, so he was blind as well as hobbled.

Still, he limped faster.

The force collar weighed heavily on his neck, preventing all but the most basic uses of the force. Which was more than most Jedi had, as he learned from Obi-wan the one time he'd mentioned it. He could still recall every detail in his mentor's astonished then guarded face. Slowly he was healing, but he wouldn't be fully healed for at least a week.

"Halt," and his head snapped up blindly, whipping around for the source of the sound. That was a human voice. "There is no need for all of you to proceed. I have paid for him already." A woman's voice. His guards began speaking in their guttural language populated by grunts and clicks. "Besides, it is a rare occurrence that I buy… damaged goods." He could feel the ice in her voice like it was freezing a frosted spider web over his cheekbones.

"Fine," came the hiss from behind him. He tensed ready for what he knew was coming. Roughly he was grabbed by each shoulder and bent over backwards as slimed hands forced his lips open and replaced the disgusting appendages with a gag, which was swiftly tied behind his head. He fell to his knees, the pain too much for his assorted injuries. He received a kick for his troubles, knocking the breath from his lungs in a strangled grunt of pain. He nearly choked. Then one of their prods slammed into his shoulder and electricity floored his senses. Death blurred before his eyes and he might have tried to scream.

Sharp footsteps. Angry shouts. A buzzing filled the air and his hair stood on end. There was a sharp crack followed by gurgles and wet slapping as his captors fled in haste. A gloved hand ran over his cheek and trailed down his neck before the feeling dropped away. He lay on the floor panting, the cold seeping into his bones. Maybe he should just give in. Let the force take him.

"Hold on. Just hold on. Damn it I paid too much for you to have you die on me. Medical. MEDICAL!"

There was a sharp slap on his cheek and he sat bolt upright. "Better. I don't lose investments. Forget medical, they're a bunch of imbecilic printable diplomas anyways. Just get him up to the dais and leave." Strong arms wrapped around his torso and heaved him on to his feet before ducking under his arm and dragging him up three, possibly four steps and dumping him in a chair. Heavy booted feet prodded from the room. He knew he was alone with the woman hovering over him. She had an oddly weak signature in the force, or maybe it was just him.

Cool long fingered hands return to his face, cupping his chin and rubbing over his cheeks. Warm breath coasts down the bridge of his nose and pools on his lips. How close _was_ she?

"You are lucky I found you when I did. You were not going to last much longer," the hands are on his neck now, twisting his collar and causing him to grunt. She laughs lightly and he can't do anything except scrunch up his nose. "Very lucky indeed. I'm impressed you lasted so long with those mad men. That's half the reason I bought you." She pauses, and deliberately runs her hands down his chest before fingering the hem of his shorts. "Well, you can guess the other reason." Her soft touch disappears as he closes his eyes under the cloth and lets them roll skyward under his lids, lips parting slightly in defeat. Fighting now would only kill him.

Something frigid slips into the skin of his neck and he bucks, panic rushing through his veins as the unmistakable hiss of injection reverberates in his ear. More dainty laughter and the clatter of metal tossed aside.

The drugs are already taking effect. His muscles clench up in resistance, and his lips begin to quiver around the rag stuffed between them. He will not succumb. He will not succumb.

"You are a very strong man Anakin." Anakin. She knew who he was. "Except for your eyes." The blind fold is torn away and he is shown the face of the devils angle.

"You have the eyes of a little boy."

**Oh boy it's been a while hasn't it? I'm not making any promises this time, that's for sure. Life is crazy, and this is just a little stress reliever for yours truly. These updates will probably be few and far between, and I have no idea where this story is going at all. Except that it involves Ani. Oh, for those of you who read Coffee and round Pastries Missing Their Centers, this villain and her are related. Just a little hint. **

**Thank you to those of you who managed to read this far! Kudos and internet cake. **

**XOXO**

**-Nat**


	2. Chapter 2

_In time we hate that which we often fear._

**-William Shakespeare**

He woke up in the dark.

He had no idea where he was, or how he had gotten here. He tried to sit up, and he met resistance in his ankles and wrists. He opened his mouth to call for someone, anyone, but the gag in his mouth prevented any form of speech other than the grunt that he regretted the second it was out of his mouth.

It was cold. He was strapped to a metal table, and the cold was seeping into his bones, chilling his skin to the point where his teeth started to clack together, even around the gag, just making it over all more painful. Shivers racked his body and somewhere he realized this wasn't natural, something was wrong with his body, but there was nothing he could do about it except ride the seizures out.

They left his breathless and gasping, sweat dotting his brow and he blinked rapidly to keep the sweat form stinging his eyes. Thirst dried his tongue and hunger paced in his stomach like a caged tiger, growling. He let his head slam back against the table with a resounding smack. The sharp pain was better than the dull ache in his muscles thoughts of his predicament.

"So the god awakens," god was said sarcastically, almost bitterly. Two round circles of yellow light appeared over his face, almost like the eyes of C3PO. There was a clicking sound and they went dark for a moment before lighting up. They swiveled away with the sound of buzzing gears and were replaced by a silver shoe box with two bars of glass through the center. After a faint whine bright blue light exploded through the tubes, effectively blinding him. He cried out and turned his head to the side, trying to ease the phantom pain in his eyes by blinking. He was tearing up and it was ridiculous, but it was a natural reaction and there was nothing he could do about it. The world was a pulsating mass of yellow tinted regeneration.

There was a hiss and the gold metal disappeared from his wrist and ankles.

"You can get up now_, master_," it was said in the same way god had been, the word hissing slowly between teeth, dripping down a chin like vile honey. "If you even can." There was a sharp laugh, but no humor in it. "In my opinion, she paid too much for you."

His vision returned, but he pretended he was still incapacitated. This could be his chance to escape. There was no time to plan. No time to think. Just action.

The room was small, he could cross the entire thing in two steps. There was the table he had been braced to and a slew of metallic equipment hanging from the ceiling he couldn't begin to name. It was lit by a flickering blue bulb recessed into the ceiling. The… thing that had been talking to him stood in the corner, grumbling over a metal dish as he fiddled with controls underneath it.

In a detonation of movement he jumped to his feet and leapt across the room, hands extended to grab the being by its neck and use it as a hostage for escape.

The thing flicked a switch.

Electricity exploded from a device he had not noticed attached to his temple. The pain was immeasurable, crackling down his neck and dancing across his teeth, leaving his hair standing on end. He fell to his knees and screamed, clawing at the metal disk. Finally, finally it ended, and he collapsed, his muscles no longer clenched in reaction. Black spots danced across his vision and unconsciousness pulled at his mind, and the thing turned around, two yellow lights pointed at his face.

"Stupid, _Jedi_. Very stupid."

* * *

><p>"Wake up Anakin," the voice was close, soft on his skin. That meant danger.<p>

He sat up abruptly, white sheets flying around him in a flurry of fabric and fear. His eyes were already open and he turned to the person the voice had originated from. It was the woman from yesterday, and she was even lovelier than before, especially lying there in the sheer fabric, her dark hair a mane around her heart shaped face. Her skin was only a few shades darker than the cream fabric and perfectly smooth, not a single blemish visible. Her lips were dark red and when she licked them his heart stuttered a little in his chest. He was just a man, after all.

Padme forgive him.

She opened her eyes then, and he blanched.

Her eyes weren't real.

Her irises were metallic and reflective, the color of steel. They were like tiny targeting computers, with a cross and different rings that flickered with what looked like numbers. They focused, obviously shifting and what stirring he had felt before faded. What _was_ she?

Those pretty lips twisted into a frown, and her eyes clicked again. It was unnerving to watch. Then she blinked and the numbers and cross hairs were gone, replaced simply a soft brown that reminded him so much of Padme he nearly got sick. Had it been his mind been playing a trick on him? Losing all but his basic force sense, the drugs, the stress, and the torture had wreaked havoc on his brain. Still. The terror had been enough to set his hands shaking. Force he was weak.

"Oh Anakin," she gripped his hand in hers and pulled him back down the mattress. "It's alright." It was anything but alright. He was on some unknown planet without his lightsaber, without the force, without anyone knowing where he was or whether he was alive. Worst of all he was in some unknown woman's bed as she wrapped bare arms around his chest and pressed those lips to his neck. A pleasant shiver racked his body and she started kissing his pulse point.

He needed to focus on something else.

The bed was massive, big enough for five people. The soft curtains draped around it, giving the impression of being in some sultan's tent. Sunlight filtered through the sheer fabric, sparking as it hit gold threads woven into the cloth. Vague shadows revealed themselves beyond their sanctuary; they were obviously in this woman's room. He didn't even know her name.

"Kiss me Anakin." She whispered against his skin.

"No."

Her lips stopped on his neck.

"What?" her voice changed. It was no longer playful. The soft tone was etched with steel.

"No." Her fingers pressed the disk on his temple.

Electricity arched through his veins, dancing across skin. His back lifted off the bed as he writhed with pain and suddenly there were warm lips on his, and a hot tongue in his mouth and hands on his hips but the pain didn't stop, if anything this, this _thing_ seemed to like it better.

He hated her.

**This update was so much faster than expected. Free time just appeared out of nowhere for me, somehow. **

**Thank you for all for your wonderful reviews! That has probably had something to do with the miraculous appearance of free time in my life **

**XOXO**

**-Nat**


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